


Feathers

by reaperlight



Category: Death Note
Genre: Abuse, Abuse of Authority, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Amnesia, Career Change, Dark, Deconstruction, Dubious Morality, Emotional Manipulation, Evil!L, Fandom Allusions & Cliches & References, Fanfiction of Fanfiction, Hurt/Comfort, Interspecies Relationship(s), Interspecies Romance, M/M, Mental Health Issues, POV Alternating, Past Sexual Abuse, Pet Peeve Tropes, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Post-Yotsuba Arc, Psychological Torture, Psychological Trauma, Rejection, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Traumatized Light, Unreliable Narrator, Victim Blaming, Villains, Yotsuba!Light, improbable scenarios, that is somehow supposed to be sexy, the fanfic version of L
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-19
Updated: 2016-01-20
Packaged: 2018-03-13 18:38:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3392072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reaperlight/pseuds/reaperlight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ryuk had wondered how the kid had fared being L's prisoner for so long but he never expected to find <i>this.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> _Do you really think he’s coming back to you?_  
>  _Hold as the world stop spinning with that writing on the wall_  
>  “Feathers” – Coheed and Cambria

He didn’t notice him at first. 

The young man stood on the very edge of the bridge—the London Bridge, on the wrong side of the safety rail—watching the crash of the waves below with an unrivaled intensity, uncaring of the rain that plastered once-perfect hair in his eyes. For a brief moment he spared a thought for his family, or at least his mother and sister. He pondered leaving them a message. He knew it would be atypical—most suicides don’t leave a death note of any kind… The young man froze at the thought. For some reason that word triggered something in his memories, but it was like a half-forgotten dream and it slipped from his thoughts before he could fully grasp it.

No. 

Whatever it was, it didn’t matter. He was set in his course. 

He leaned into the wind and rain, gazing down at the sheer drop below one last time. So transfixed was he with listening to the Siren call of the crashing waves that he didn’t even notice the feather-like touch—paper against skin.

 **“You’ll survive this.”** It was said with conviction.

He was so shocked by the sound of the gruff male voice speaking behind him that he almost lost his balance and teetered off the edge—not that that would’ve been a problem, really. Curiously, the stranger’s voice seemed familiar, somehow, in a way he just couldn’t place. Ultimately it didn’t matter. 

“What the hell are you talking about?” The young man chuckled brokenly and without any trace of humor. “Don't you see? It’s _over._ ”

The other recognized that voice—that was the voice of a man who had been pushed past the brink of all reason. It was not the first time he had heard such zealous madness in the boy’s voice but it was the first time he’d seen the other's destructive tendencies turn in upon itself. It would be fascinating had he not become somewhat… _attached_ to the young man in question. 

**“It’s not your time,”** he insisted. He actually had that on good authority. There was a number that sat unseen above the young man's head. It was not yet up. 

When the gruff stranger spoke again a spike of emotion he hadn’t thought himself still capable of feeling ripped through the chill numbness that had once been the “promising young man.” 

That feeling was rage. 

How _dare_ he interfere?

For some reason this familiar stranger reminded him of _him._ (He interfered too, didn’t he? No, that didn't do it justice, in the end he did far more than "interfere." And look how _that_ turned out.) 

No.

No, he’d had enough. 

No more. No more accusations, no more manipulations, no more empty promises and sugar-coated lies. 

No more. 

“I’m _done._ ” 

Without even bothering to turn around and look at this interloper he retreated back to where he had removed his tennis shoes. He was going to do it, he _would,_ he was serious. Despite what _he_ thought, this wasn't just some pathetic cry for attention, he _wanted_ to die and he would, but it would be on his own terms and having a stranger watching him, _judging him_ , was just… ruining the mood. He supposed he was just trying to achieve some sort of inner peace within his screaming mind when he stepped off the ledge—as if that was even possible. His mind was never quiet. Even before _he_ filled it with traumas. He’d be back tomorrow, he was sure. Or… perhaps not here. If the stranger was persistent in his attempts to “save” him he might call the police. He’d just have to find another place to die. A pity really, he kind of liked the wind and the rain and the waves—it actually seemed kind of peaceful…at least when compared to his disturbed racing thoughts. 

Perhaps he was just making excuses. 

His eyes hardened with resolve as he moved again getting closer to the edge.

**“Tch! Always so dramatic, aren’t you? No, I’m saying you’ll survive this attempt though I have no idea how. You’ll probably be a brain-dead vegetable fed through a tube for the rest of your life. Now isn’t that _boring?_ ”**

The teen shivered and it had nothing to do with the foul weather. 

The rain blew his bangs in his face again, making it difficult to see but he knew the edge was there somewhere. 

**“I could kill you myself if that’s what you really want, Light—I could make it quick and painless.”**

“How did you know that name?” he demanded, suddenly very alarmed. Not so much for himself seeing as in a couple of minutes he wouldn't be caring about anything at all, (and certainly not for _him_ ), but for others that information could put at risk. 

No one was supposed to know him here. 

_He_ was very security conscious after all, one might even say paranoid, and thanks to _him_ his true name, his _very identity_ had become one of his most closely guarded secrets—all for his "protection" of course. 

**“Easily—we know each other very well, Light-o. Don’t get me wrong. I-it’s not like I care or anything, it’s just… you’re the most interesting person I’ve ever met and I would be… _disappointed_ if you stepped off that ledge. Just think about it—you know if you step off that ledge you won’t be able to eat your barbequed potato chips anymore,”** the stranger persuaded, enticing him back from the edge. 

Light found that the real shitty part was that it was actually working. Dammit, of all the things to cling to his pathetic life for... why did he have to mention potato chips? 

_Just who is this guy?_

“Don’t act like you know me you… you _stalker!_ ” 

“No, that would be L.”

 _“How…”_ Light gave a choked cry and spun around to confront the man who somehow knew _everything_ … only to find what stood behind him wasn’t exactly a man. Well, while the being was undoubtedly male, he was not a male human. Upon turning around he was met by that large, monstrous visage, that pale face full of grinning fangs—Light was so shocked at the sight that he nearly stumbled backwards off the ledge. 

The boy gasped when black talons reached out and clasped hold of his hand, forcefully pulling him back from the edge. Light’s knees gave out and he fell at the feet of the monster.

 **“Now _this_ brings back memories,”** the Shinigami cackled humorlessly, his grotesque parody of a grin stretching from ear to ear. **“It’s just like that night when we first met. You fell on your ass too. But back then at least you had the drive to get back up again. What changed, Light? Where did that fearless young man go? This is not like you at all!”**

The brunet gaped up at the strange hulking creature. “You… who _are_ you? How do you know me?” Light demanded, desperate for answers. Though the question he _really_ wanted to ask was " _What_ are you?" but that didn't seem very polite. 

There was no question now. Somehow this creature _knew_ him. He knew him from before. He _knew_ that before he would never have allowed himself to be seen like this, so… _weak_ but then that was then—before _he_... no, before _L_ happened to him—before it all fell apart. 

Light was startled out of his melancholy thoughts when he noted how the monster’s odd red-gold eyes gazed down at him with a peculiar expression that might just be _concern._

**“I am the Shinigami Ryuk,”** said the creature **“…And you used to know me too.”**

“S-shinigami? A God of Death?! And you… _saved me?_ ” 

Ryuk scoffed. 

**“I didn’t save you. It wasn’t your time,”** the Shinigami insisted. He hadn’t saved him; not really, he had merely grasped his hand. It wasn’t Light’s time to go, that’s all. He _hadn’t_ “saved him”—that much was obvious seeing he hadn’t crumbled to dust-saving a human was bad, not to mention _lethal_ for Shinigami. Of course “saving” generally meant using the Death Note to interfere with a human’s fate—such as killing a human’s would-be murderer and stopping their death from occurring. So Ryuk hadn’t saved Light. He had just… held his hand for a moment, that’s all, and there was nothing wrong with just holding the hand of his favorite provider of apples…

“Ryuk… are you… are you Kira?” Light breathed, emboldened enough to ask the question when the monster didn't seem inclined to hurt him. 

Light became further agitated as the creature began laughing—it was a harsh, cackling sound like a crow celebrating over freshly killed carrion.

 **“Oh, right. I forgot… “** Ryuk snickered as he peeked down at the human huddling at his feet.

“Are you….” Light asked, sounding slightly scared. That set Ryuk off laughing even more. 

**“No,”** the monster continued to giggle. **“No Light, _I’m_ not Kira.”**

“What’s so damned funny?” the brunet demanded and the Shinigami snickered harder. 

**“It’s just… I forgot that you forgot.”**

“’I forgot…?’ What did I forget?” 

**“You don’t remember any of it. That’s just _hilarious._ ”**

“Well it’s not for me!” snapped Light. 

**“Yeah…"** Ryuk murmured, sobering at the young man's obvious distress. **"I suppose not.”**

“Dammit Ryuk, this is my life we’re talking about!”

**“You didn’t seem that interested in it before.”**

“Don’t you see, Ryuk? This changes everything! If I’ve been stripped of pieces of my memories… It all makes sense now! This gaping hole in my life! It wasn’t just… _I’m_ not complete. I might even have something worth _living for!_ Do you know how it happened? Who did this to me?”

**“Yes.”**

_“Tell me!”_

**“Are you sure you want to know, Light? You probably won't like the answer."**

“Please Ryuk," Light pleaded as he got shakily to his feet. "I _need_ to know!”

 **“Alright then. Don’t say I didn’t warn you…”**

“Ryuk?”

**“I did it…”**

“ _What?! You..._ ” 

**“…On _your_ orders.”**

“W-what? What are you saying? Why would I do that to myself? Why would you…?” 

Light was hit by another sudden chill that had nothing to do with the wind. 

“Are you saying that I’m…? That I was…?” 

Ryuk rolled his eyes. **“Yeah, Light. You’re Kira,”** he said simply, as if they were simply discussing the weather. 

“I… He… he was right about me all along? No! This can’t… _DON’T LIE TO ME!_ ” Light snapped and in a burst of adrenaline rushed at the monster. 

Ryuk easily caught his wrists when the distraught man began ineffectually punching at his chest. 

_“I’m not Kira! I’m not…”_

Ryuk was further surprised that when he drew him close the young human leaned in, pressing his suspiciously wet face against his chest. Ryuk’s first instinct was to phase out and let the human fall to the ground but something twisted in his gut at the thought of hurting him further. This thought thoroughly confused Ryuk—he was usually one to laugh at human misery. But for some reason _this_... this wasn't funny. He truly had missed Light's company—that's why he'd returned to the human world—to find out what happened to his favorite toy. 

Ryuk had wondered how the kid had fared being L's prisoner for so long but he never expected to find _this._

He never thought he'd ever see _Light_ , of all humans, crying. 

It unsettled him. 

**“It’s true, Light,”** the Shinigami asserted gently. **“You’re Kira.”**

He’d meant it as a complement. A gentle reminder of who he really was—Kira who was strong and confidant, who had a plan for everything, who Ryuk could easily see taking over the human world. 

It was obviously the wrong thing to say.

Ryuk winced when he was met with only an unintelligible scream of misery. 

**“H-hey. It’s okay, Light. Um… there, there? _Shit,_ I’m no good at this sort of thing!”** Ryuk grumbled but it didn’t seem to matter anyway. His human had gone all glassy eyed and unresponsive as Light’s world went black around the edges.

Ryuk looked on with some concern as his human’s breaths came in harsh rattling pants, and counted it as fortunate that he already had hold of him when Light’s knees abruptly gave out again—this time as the young man fell into a dead faint. 

**“ _Goddammit,_ Light.”**


	2. Chapter 2

After dithering there for a moment Ryuk decided he didn’t like the way his human’s unconscious body shivered with the cold. Mind made up, he picked up the unconscious boy bridal style and spread his wings with an audible crack. The Shinigami was further alarmed when the noise alone failed to wake Light or even when he took flight and shot up into the skies over London. Light was far from home. It had taken Ryuk quite a while to find him again, at least if one counted in human time which Ryuk tended to do due to his immense boredom. Time flowed most strangely for the bored immortal—ancient histories seemed like only yesterday. Take this place, for instance. London—this city held ancient history yet Ryuk remembered this place from the time before humans had turned it into such when bands of Celts roamed grassy hills, humans were fewer in number... and mysterious accidents and diseases were far more common. 

The Shinigami flared his night-dark wings as he flew over St. Paul’s Cathedral. He was sure that even the most jaded of humans would find the sight of the London cityscape racing by below them somewhat interesting. Ryuk frowned slightly as the boy in his arms slept through the entire thing. 

**“Out like a light,”** Ryuk snickered and was disappointed when Light didn’t wake up to scold him.

Oh well, maybe next time—that is provided there _was_ a next time. Light had seemed rather determined to put his life to a premature end. Ryuk was completely confused by this turn around. The Light he knew wouldn’t even _consider_ parting with a little lifespan before… 

The Shinigami flew swiftly and with purpose—Ryuk had been watching the former Death Note Owner for a while now so he could easily find his way back to the hotel room he knew the kid was staying in. He gained entry through the window, easily pried open with the monster’s inhuman strength. During his flight and sneaking around Ryuk was careful to go unseen by humans; of course they couldn’t see _him,_ humans couldn't see or hear him unless they had touched the notebook, but they could have conceivably seen _Light_ when he carried him. Ryuk counted it as fortunate that Light had chosen to wear a dark tracksuit tonight and that most humans didn’t bother to look up anyway. 

Light usually favored, well, light colored clothes—white dress shirts or pastels… khaki pants. The only reason he’d ever wear a dark tracksuit before was because he hadn’t wanted anyone to see him prowling around late at night. Had Light not wanted anyone to see him or was this more of a case of humans wearing black when they were depressed? Well, no matter the reason he put them on, now those clothes had to come off—they were quite drenched from the rain and the boy was quite noticeably shivering. Ryuk laid out the unconscious boy on the bed and briefly wondered how to proceed. It shouldn’t be _that_ awkward—they had been _roommates_ and Ryuk had watched Light getting dressed, and undressed, countless times before... without thinking about it too much Ryuk swiftly ripped off Light’s shirt. He was indeed soaked to his skin—he felt deathly cold even to the God of Death. 

He was skinnier than he remembered. 

_By the King’s Orchard! What happened to you?_

Without thinking Ryuk reached out and began tracing the outline of his boy’s ribs with a gentle claw but paused when the brunet made an odd whimpering noise in his sleep—Ryuk thought better of it. 

The Shinigami shook his head. **“This is so _weird…_ “**

He had never seen Light looking so _vulnerable._ Even in sleep Light had always seemed so… majestic, _untouchable,_ but now he just seemed so… _human._

Well of course, Light was human. Ryuk knew that, with that red number hanging above his head it was a fact the Shinigami could never fully forget. Still… Ryuk had always thought Light would make a much better Shinigami. In fact Light was more Shinigami-like than most of the Shinigami he knew. 

No… Light was Shinigami as they were truly _meant_ to be—not like the lazy idiots back home. Light, when Ryuk had known him before, had been crafty, devious, and held such an air of power, he had such great plans and grand ambitions that Ryuk couldn’t help but root for him… just a little. Ryuk wasn’t on his side of course, and it was a foregone conclusion that Light was doomed to fail—he was a mortal after all playing at being a God—but it was entertaining to watch him try. 

Of course that was _his_ Light. The young man asleep on the bed might as well be a stranger. Ryuk lightly picked up the boy’s hand and noted that the handcuffs had left scars on his wrists. So had a blade of some kind—perhaps this was not his first attempt then? 

Ryuk was trying to understand. 

He had heard of the occasional Shinigami who would choose to end their existence but it was typically a slow process of just letting their accumulated lifespan expire. Of course a Shinigami could end it instantly by choosing to save a human but most didn’t care enough about humans to even think of it. Nor did most Shinigami feel a pressing need to cease to be—even those that grew weary of existence. Ryuk supposed everything was faster for mortals. Not that that was always a bad thing—as far as Ryuk could tell humans tended to lead much more interesting lives—when Shinigami died it was usually out of apathy. When coming down to the world of the living Ryuk hadn’t expected to find a human who felt that same sense of ennui. The other humans called Light “gifted” but to the Shinigami’s experienced eye it seemed more like a curse… 

On the bed Light shivered slightly and Ryuk hastened to remove the rest of his clothes. They were all parts he had seen like a million times before—he was just a human, he wasn’t anything special—seeing Light nude really shouldn’t be causing such weird twisty feelings in the core of his being. Perhaps he was going into apple withdrawal? Yeah, that had to be it. Light again whimpered slightly in his sleep and the Shinigami bashfully averted his eyes and covered him with a fluffy bathrobe (not bothering to dress him again because he didn’t want to disturb his sleep or touch him more than was strictly necessary) and tucked him into bed, covering him with every blanket he could find and yet Light was still shivering. Dammit, what if he was really sick or something? 

There wasn’t exactly anything Ryuk could do about it if he was. He probably shouldn’t have even done this much. Again, this wasn’t saving him—Light’s lifespan was fixed, he wasn’t meant to die now, that’s all. He wasn’t doing this because he cared. No, this was really no different from drawing the blinds or searching for surveillance cameras—this was just being courteous, this was just making him comfortable—he was permitted that much. He could consider it payback for all the apples and game sessions of Mario Golf. 

Still Ryuk briefly pondered the merits of placing a “prank call” to emergency services and seeing if anyone came by the hotel room to check it out. It would have to be a “prank call.” Ryuk couldn’t speak to the humans on the other end even if he wanted to. The Shinigami snarled slightly, sometimes the restrictions placed on him by the Death Note were damned annoying. Light would probably be mad at him if he tried anyway—as the Shinigami recalled Light wasn’t too fond of attracting unwanted attention. It was unlikely to work in any case. 

Ryuk briefly considered heating up some pillows in the microwave but ultimately decided against it—the first and last time Ryuk tried to use a microwave had been in 1972 when he had been bonded to some druggie who filled his death note with stupid poetry and thought that the presence of the Shinigami had merely been the result of a very bad trip but said human had had a nice kitchen selection so the Shinigami had refrained from killing him right away. Ryuk had been trying to heat up an apple strudel in the microwave oven (which had been new technology then and without safety features) when one of his metal chain bracelets got caught in the door. It had sparked and then the whole thing had exploded, setting the kitchen on fire. And while Ryuk was trying to help Light get warm he figured that would be a bit _too_ warm.

When Light shivered again Ryuk had the sudden, inexplicable urge to _cuddle_ with his human to warm him up. He resisted it because it was utterly ridiculous—after all, his body ran much colder than that of a human’s so such a move would clearly be counterproductive. Ryuk wasn’t sure what had come over him, he normally wasn’t fond of physical contact. Neither was Light for that matter and he’d probably freak out even more if he woke up to find a Shinigami invading his personal space. 

That was another thing that Ryuk found quite disconcerting—Light was _afraid_ of him. The old Light hadn’t been afraid of him. Oh, he’d startled him when he first appeared but he got over it pretty quickly. The old Light had had no problem pushing him around and insulting him and generally giving him a hard time. It was so different from the usual response—the cowering and pleading for their lives—that Ryuk hadn’t actually minded the teenager’s bossy attitude. If anything Ryuk thought Light brave and adored him all the more for it. Ryuk couldn’t help but miss the old Light—sure he was full of himself and more than a little crazy but that’s what made him so entertaining. He didn’t get that same vibe from the kid now. Well, still crazy maybe but it was a different sort of crazy. He seemed _broken_ somehow. So Ryuk supposed that if he wanted his Light back he’d have to somehow fix the new one.

He didn’t mean to force him to become Kira again, well, at least _not exactly_ —Ryuk honestly couldn’t care less what Light did or didn’t do with the Death Note, he just missed that part of what Kira had been—an optimistic and confident young man ready to take on the world. Ryuk really just wanted his buddy back and to see him smile again. But in all fairness, the Shinigami reasoned the old Light had also been just as broken in his own way—a normal human would never have written that many names. There would be no “fixing” Light—that kid had serious issues. So maybe “help” was a better word than “fix.” He could help Light—within reason. He was sure his Light was still in there… 

Ryuk realized that part of the problem was that he was already thinking of them as two different people. That was stupid, really. It was Light. This _was_ his Light. Even though they _seemed_ so different from the offset—if Ryuk had learned anything from watching the teenager it was that Light was very good at putting up a front. Could it be that Light really did enjoy the Death Note and it made him happy just like he said or perhaps _his_ Light had always felt the same way as this one and was just better at hiding it. Ryuk was pretty sure that Light could be whoever he needed to be to suit his purposes. His Light, this Light… they really were one and the same. Dammit, just what had L _done_ to shatter him—this proud, brilliant young man—so _completely?_ Ryuk only knew two things for sure: Light really was hurting from whatever had happened in his absence and that he wanted to help him.

Ryuk was abruptly drawn out of his musings by the whimpering that again came from the sleeping boy and then there was that insane urge to _touch_ him again. A gentle black talon carefully pushed rain-drenched bangs out of the boy’s face even as Ryuk hoped he wasn’t the nightmare troubling the boy’s sleep… No, that was too optimistic. Perhaps he should hope that he was the _only_ nightmare troubling his sleep. As Ryuk idly plucked a loose feather from the pillow a solution occurred to him regarding the heating problem—his wings might provide some extra insulation but that would mean staying in bed with Light.

Dammit, he was already frightened—he didn’t want to scare him any further—at least any more than he inevitably would. But he had no more blankets and he didn’t dare try to use the microwave. Maybe Light just had to get used to him again. Maybe Ryuk just had to show he wasn’t going to hurt him—well, he’d kill him one day, sure, but never _hurt_ him. 

Ryuk released his wings again and he realized he had plenty of wingspan to cover the sleeping boy without climbing into bed with him. Why had he thought it necessary? Where were all these strange _urges_ coming from? He wasn’t supposed to be thinking such things, especially not of a human. At this rate he’d end up like Rem—making moon eyes over her human girl who couldn’t give a rat’s ass about her—it was _stupid_ and he wasn’t about to fall for it.

Ryuk lay down on the floor next to the bed. It wasn’t the most comfortable place he’d ever rested upon (nor the most uncomfortable place either) but, unlike his human, he didn’t need to sleep. Light’s breathing seemed to even out when he was enveloped in black feathers. Ryuk would keep his silent vigil until his… _friend_ awakened. 

**“Sweet dreams,”** the Shinigami whispered into the dark.


	3. Chapter 3

When Light slowly returned to consciousness it was like lazily seeping upwards through layers of tar until he awoke, floating serenely just on the surface of wakefulness. He felt oddly at peace completely enveloped in the soft darkness. It was warm, safe, and comfortable–and everything that had existed before this moment seemed so far away that, for just this moment, he could pretend it had all been just a bad dream. Light snuggled into the warmth, pulling the blankets closer and tighter or rather _trying to_ —when pulling on his favorite, the softest of the blankets, he was met with a strange resistance. Light gave a frustrated groan. He _wanted_ it! It’s warm softness, it felt so damn good against his bare skin… 

Wait? _Bare skin?_

Light’s eyes shot open and he was at once fully awake to find he was indeed _completely naked_ and tangled in a heap of blankets… but the blanket he had enjoyed so much was the one on top—that was the problem, in sleep he’d wanted to snuggle into it with his entire body. It just felt so very nice to touch that even now he idly gripped and stroked at it between his fingers. It was pitch black and had an odd texture—it was very soft and felt almost like, no, _exactly_ like… feathers. Light experimentally tugged at it again.

 **“Ow,”** a familiar, deep voice grumbled from the floor. It took a moment for him to place it but when he did Light let out a strangled sound of alarm. It was the monster from the bridge, he was _right there,_ lounging on the floor, watching him with those wide, unblinking golden eyes and smiling at him, ever-smiling at him, with that terrifying, fangy smile. 

_Holy Shit! That thing's real?!_

The bridge! That was the last thing he remembered before… how the hell did he get _here?!_

 **“I take it you’re awake then.”** Ryuk rumbled as he attempted to pull his wings away, only to find that Light was still clinging to them, almost like a lifeline. If he wanted to press the issue Ryuk could have phased out of Light’s grasp easily enough but Ryuk was worried that such a move would only spook him further. 

“It… It wasn’t a dream?” the youth gasped, knuckles turning white as he gripped the creature’s wing, tangible proof that what he was seeing was real. 

**“No, Light—you’ll find I’m quite real. Please don’t faint again.”**

“I didn’t…”

 **“You did,”** the creature affirmed. 

“Then you…” _This… creature, he was the one, he brought me here. That means he knew where I was staying and… and… “Why am I naked?”_ Light blurted out in alarm, even though he was afraid of the answer. 

**“Your clothes were soaked and you were freezing. I was only trying to keep you warm.”**

Light felt his face heating up at the creature’s obviously unintended innuendo and he unconsciously gripped his dark “blanket” tighter.

**“We were roommates once. It’s nothing I haven’t seen before. I promise, I didn’t touch you any more than was strictly necessary—your virtue is intact.”**

“My… _virtue?_ ” 

Ryuk noticed that Light was shivering again but this time he didn’t think it was because he was cold. Light let out an odd broken sound—Ryuk couldn’t tell if he was laughing or crying. Perhaps it was a little of both. 

**“…Do you want to talk about it?”** The Shinigami asked, voice and demeanor laden with obvious concern.

“No.” 

**“Okay.”**

They sat in awkward silence.

“You’re not…” Light cleared his throat, “You’re not going to demand answers?” 

Ryuk shrugged, **“I figure you’ll tell me if you want to. If you want to tell me, I’ll listen. If you don’t that’s fine too.”**

“Oh... Okay,” Light muttered as his fingers idly found the creature’s wing feathers again—those damned feathers—they still felt nice, even knowing what or rather _who_ they were attached to. 

Ryuk, a God of Death, and, allegedly, his friend. Or was he _Kira’s_ friend? Light wasn’t sure. In any case Light knew he should be weary of him. He knew on an intellectual level he should be more concerned to wake up like this. Maybe it was just because his self-preservation wasn’t that high these days but he kind of _liked_ the idea of being completely enveloped in the creature’s wings. They just, somehow, made him feel… _safe._ He couldn’t hope to explain it. He wondered if he was going crazy. Or perhaps _crazier._ He admittedly hadn’t been that balanced ever since… Light shook his head. He didn’t need to be remembering _that,_ least of all _now._ Light turned his attention back to the matter at hand, determined to focus only on the present and the creature’s— _man’s(?!),_ peculiar… _limb_ embracing him. The Shinigami’s wings looked oddly fragile extended like that. Ryuk was sheltering him from the cold or at least that’s what he’d said. Somehow that act itself made Light want to trust him even though it was probably tantamount to, well, suicide. 

_Surely he wouldn’t expose himself like that to someone he didn’t like and didn’t trust? Or maybe he’s just so much more… powerful he knows I could never hope to hurt him?_ Light thought as he continued to reflexively pet the fluffy feathers. 

Light became alarmed again when the Shinigami suddenly let out a rumbling sound in response to Light’s gentle stroking. 

“S-sorry!” 

**“It’s okay,”** Ryuk was quick to reassure him. He usually didn’t keep his wings out for very long and hardly ever had anyone touching him there before. He found he kind of liked it. **“That’s… nice. No one’s ever done that for me before.”**

For some reason, Light found himself blushing again. His breath caught when he noticed how the creature gazed up at him, almost worshipfully. 

“What… what _is_ this?” Light uttered in a near whisper as he felt his body growing hot, and this time the blankets definitely were not the cause. How could he possibly be having these kinds of reactions towards… something, no _someone_ like that?! Had _he_... was he really that fucked up? 

Ryuk wondered if Light meant the question literally or if this was some nuance of human expression he was missing. Not understanding it if it was something more subtle he chose to take it literally. 

**“They’re wings. I fly with them,”** The Shinigami answered gruffly.

“Yeah, but... er… why… why did you wrap me in them?”

Ryuk shrugged. **“Like I told you, I was trying to keep you warm—I couldn’t find any more blankets… you kept shivering. Do you not like it? Do you want me to stop?”**

“No… it’s… _nice._ It’s just… I wasn’t expecting it, that’s all,” Light explained, or attempted to explain, though whether he was truly trying to justify it to the Shinigami or to _himself_ even he couldn’t truly say. Light frowned slightly, experiencing an odd sense of loss as the Shinigami withdrew his wings and instinctively drew one of the other blankets around him, wrapping himself up in it like a burrito. 

Ryuk shifted and began to pick himself up off the floor but paused when Light’s soft, terrified whine suddenly pricked his ears.

The young man sat frozen; his soft brown eyes going wide in terror. 

**“Light?”** the Shinigami asked with what was dangerously approaching concern when the hotel room was suddenly filled with the too-harsh sounds of the boy’s breathing. 

Crap. What had he done to scare him? He’d seemed just fine a moment ago. He’d even taken care to move slowly and carefully around his human so as not to startle him but it seemed to have not done any good… 

**“What’s wrong?”** Ryuk pleaded as he crept closer. 

“Please _don’t!_ ” Light howled, his eyes vacant and glassy, and it became clear to Ryuk that Light wasn’t speaking to _him._ In fact he wasn’t even _here._ Oh sure, his body was physically present but Light might as well have been a million miles away. 

Light whimpered again and rubbed his wrists where handcuffs had left their mark and when Ryuk saw the direction of Light’s stare he had a flash of understanding. It wasn’t _him_ exactly that had spooked his human, it was the all-too-familiar sound of metal on metal, the clinking and jingling of the chain that hung on his belt. Ryuk didn’t know what had befallen Light while he was away but he was sure it was always in chains.

Ryuk slowly unclipped the chain from his belt, the jingling again recapturing the panicking boy’s attention. The Shinigami made sure to lock eyes with Light as he slowly bent over, being overly cautious with his movements and making a minimal amount of noise as he set the chain down on the floor next to the bed. Light still winced at the sound but it seemed to bring him somewhat back to his senses. But Light was still, clearly, in a highly agitated state if the loudness of his breath and the speed of his heartbeats were any indication. 

_“W-what?”_ Light muttered in confusion as he continued to stare dumbly at the inert pile of links. 

**“It’s just a chain,”** Ryuk began but paused when Light tensed up again. **“A _fashion_ accessory,”** Ryuk insisted in answer to his human’s wary, questioning look. **“That’s all.”**

Light’s gaze returned to the offending chain. It looked so inert and inoffensive on the floor. Was that really the thing that had caused this… episode?

 **‘You can have it if you want… It’s yours.”**

“M-mine?” Light asked shakily. Though, as he considered the notion, some light seemed to return to his haunted eyes.

 **“Yeah… You know. If you want. Take it. Own it. Claim it. Make it yours and it can’t hurt you anymore.”**

The young man blinked in confusion, followed by understanding. 

Light readjusted his improvised blanket toga and leaned over the edge of the bed, reaching for the chain with a trembling hand. He shied away from it at the last moment. Sweat trickled down his brow and his entire frame was shaking. 

“I-I’m sorry,” Light uttered, his face becoming hidden beneath the convenient cascade of his bangs but Ryuk didn’t have to see his face to hear the fear and embarrassment in the young man’s voice. 

**“Don’t be. It’s okay, Light. Really, it’s okay.”** Ryuk insisted while Light tried to once again get his trembling under control. 

“ _God!_ I must seem so pathetic to you!”

 **“Not really. You know most humans wouldn’t even try.”**

“To pick up a chain?” Light asked incredulously. 

**“I was thinking more along the lines of stepping outside their comfort zones and facing their fears but… whatever.”**

It helped, somehow—Light found Ryuk’s words and rumbling baritone to be oddly soothing. Galvanized by the other’s support, Light clenched his jaw and reached for it again, and this time he managed to pick up the chain with a shaking hand. Light flinched again at the sound of the clinking but somehow managed to keep his hold on the chain. 

It seemed such a little thing when it sat coiled, inert, in the palm of his hand. 

Ryuk fidgeted slightly when Light looked at him, the boy’s eyes seemed to light up in awe, or maybe it was gratitude, in either case that strange, piercing look was evoking strange feelings in the Shinigami—it was making Ryuk unduly nervous. 

**“Uh… Look I’m gonna go get us some apples, er… breakfast. I didn’t touch your stuff if you want to get dressed or whatever.”**

***

His human joined him at the breakfast table a short time later wearing that simple black pullover sweater with the white stripe around the collar and his usual khaki pants. It was the same outfit that—unknown to the amnesiac killer—he often wore in the afternoons after school while killing hundreds of people. When Light turned to him, it was almost like seeing well, his Light again, or rather the way he was before—his face was hard, mouth set in a line of grim determination. Ryuk knew that look very well—Light’s legendary stubbornness had returned in full force. Once he had his mind set on something Light would keep trying until he got his way. Well, at least he had transferred his single-minded obsession to something other than the thought of killing himself… or so Ryuk hoped. Ryuk noticed that Light still held his chain in his hand. 

“Ryuk…?” 

**“Huh?”**

“Are you… are you really real?” 

Ryuk froze when Light approached him and tentatively reached out and touched his shoulder. The Shinigami’s fangy maw parted in shock as his human once again slowly trailed long, elegant fingers through his fluffy shoulder feathers; they made a stark contrast—like pale gold in a forest of black. Ryuk found, to his confusion, that he indeed liked it when Light touched him and just like when Light had taken to petting his wings it caused him to let out another involuntary rumble. Ryuk was afraid he’d scared the boy again—at the very least it seemed to bring him back to what he was doing. 

The boy gave a startled cry. “ _Oh my god!_ I’m so sorry!” What had come over him? It was the second time he found himself… _fondling_ the Shinigami’s feathers! 

Light made to pull away but suddenly Ryuk’s larger, black taloned hand was covering his own, keeping it where it was on the creature’s shoulder and, for some inexplicable reason, Light felt his heart speeding up again. He hoped he wasn’t having another attack… Hell, he wasn’t even scared! 

Embarrassed, sure, but not scared. That realization further confused him. Shouldn’t he be scared? 

Why was it that despite… well _everything_ … Ryuk just registered as safe? Even not taking into account the Shinigami’s monstrous form, such a large and strange _male presence_ would typically evoke the exact opposite response ever since… But then, maybe that was part of it—perhaps, subconsciously and as insane as it sounded, he just wasn’t registering Ryuk as a threat—because it was human monsters that Light was weary of. At least with Ryuk Light knew exactly where he stood. Ryuk was a Shinigami—a God of Death—there was only one way this could end but he was surprisingly okay with that. That his mental state was such that he wanted to throw himself off a bridge might have had something to do with it.

Just because he’d been unable to last night on account of meeting the monster didn’t mean he didn’t want to try again. The only reason he wasn’t right now was because Ryuk had presented him with a mystery and… most troubling information about his past. And even though it was painful to think about…Light knew his brain wouldn’t be happy until he got the answers. He couldn’t take the plunge still wondering why he did what he did. Ironic, really—assuming Ryuk was telling the truth… he was Kira, or had been—logically he needed to die more than ever. He still wanted to die—part of him was even kind of hoping something or someone would kill him along the way but even so, another spiteful part of him didn’t want to make it easy for them. 

Part of him resented it— _all_ of it. The police… _him_ … Kira… and most of all, _himself._ Why must he be punished for crimes he didn’t even remember? From Light’s perspective it was like someone else committed those crimes yet he was the one blamed for it. Hadn’t he already been punished enough for Kira’s sins back when he was completely clueless… and innocent. Well… “innocent.” If it was true and he was Kira… he’d never truly been innocent. He was a monster in lambskin. A monster that didn’t even know it was a monster—the most dangerous kind. But even so…. Even if he was Kira it still didn’t justify what they did to him. He’d been tortured and… _worse_ by people he’d liked and trusted and never knowing _why_ … They should have just killed him. It would have been far kinder. 

Light glanced up from where their fingers touched and was met with concerned golden eyes. Light once again felt that odd heat rising in his face. This was so… _embarrassing_ in more ways than one—Light was still a bit confused as to whether he should regard the Shinigami as an oddly-shaped person or… or as an intelligent and seemingly friendly animal (or at least friendly until he got hungry) which just made everything even _weirder._ No, Ryuk was definitely not an animal. Ryuk was… person-shaped for the most part. Really the only strange things about him were the feathers… and the retractable wings… and the fangs and claws, and the bulging fish-like eyes out of a ghastly, almost skull-like face. 

Dammit! What the hell about _any_ of that was attractive?

And yet he continued to get flustered around the other man… _monster_ … no, _man._ Yes, regardless of what he looked like… Ryuk was a man—a strange man, a man not from around here, a, uh, big, strong, powerful man, a man who was friendly to him and maybe a little bit dangerous … but still a man. So clearly his attachment to Ryuk was emotional or something rather than physical—well Light was pretty sure he wasn’t a furry or attracted to clowns. No, this bond was definitely emotional… (and Light didn’t want to analyze that, _at all._ ) Yes, that had to be it—comfy “wing blankets” notwithstanding. 

A bead of sweat trickled down the side of Light’s face and he squirmed under the weight of the Shinigami’s stare.

“Sorry,” Light said again, at a loss as to how to rectify this breech of etiquette.

 **“It’s okay, Light! Really! You can, uh… _pet me_ whenever you want. I… I don’t mind,”** Ryuk asserted. 

Light barely held in a surprised gasp as Ryuk gently trailed his fingers over Light’s hand. He felt an odd jolt, almost like an electric shock when their fingers touched. 

The only other time he ever had such a feeling was when _he…_

**“Light? Are you…? Oh no… Breathe Light. Please? Please breathe. I… I don’t know what to do!”**

Maybe… Light seemed to like his wings? Light whimpered at the loud, sudden crack as Ryuk retracted his wings again but at least he was responding. Ryuk then embraced him, wrapping him in his wings. 

**“Please Light. Please?”** Ryuk didn’t even know what he was asking, he just knew he didn’t like that vacant look in his human’s eyes. **“Come back to me,”** Ryuk rumbled, embracing the human's smaller, warmer body to him, possessive and protective... and why shouldn’t he be? Light was _his._ That was their agreement. Even though they were no longer bonded, Ryuk found he still considered this human to be _his._ Ryuk was furious—not at Light, but at whoever did this to him. It was almost like finding someone had ripped up his personal Death Note… no, it was even worse than that. After all, a Death Note could be replaced. 

Light couldn’t. 

Dammit, it was unlike him to get so attached. He knew humans were fragile, frail… _mortal._ It was the height of stupidity to get attached to a human and yet…

And yet… 

Light was _his_ —his to watch, his to be amused by, and his to kill… one day. Light’s lifespan suggested that date should be far away from now, at least in mortal terms, though still all too quick for an immortal like himself. 

Light gave another jolt and let out a terrified cry. 

It was happening again. 

_He_ was touching… trapping… _violat_ —

No. This was something else. 

Light ceased his struggles at the feeling of feathers brushing against his skin once more—the wings marked this as a decidedly different experience. 

Wings. Feathers. Nice, soft feathers. 

It wasn’t _him._

_He_ was pale whereas he was dark, but for his eyes—large, like _his_ were but that was where the similarities ended—his eyes were strange and had taken to gleaming like lamplights; glowing an eerie shade of purplish red. He was taller and larger too. Fingertips of far gentler hands ending in talons.

It definitely wasn’t _him._

The other gently pressed him against a chest that held no heartbeat. Light found that was a source of comfort rather than horror—it was a reminder that he wasn’t like _him_ , he wasn’t human—it was just Ryuk. Ryuk rumbled again above him but Light didn’t startle this time. Once he got used to hearing it Light found Ryuk’s deep rumbling to be oddly soothing—it was kind of like the purr of a cat. 

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry…”

**“Stop it, Light. You have nothing to apologize for.”**

What was he talking about? Shit, he had _everything_ to apologize for. 

Light wasn’t even sure what he was apologizing for.

Touching him? Freaking out on him? …Being Kira? Hell, he couldn’t even _kill_ himself properly. 

**“You’re gonna be okay. You hear me?”**

_“Okay?”_ Light repeated in disbelief. He didn’t think he’d ever be “okay” again. It was even obvious to him with his sick thoughts and broken mind that he was broken beyond repair. 

**“Okay,”** Ryuk insisted, as if insisting could make it so. Maybe it could—after all, wasn't Ryuk a God of sorts? 

**“Come on, kid. You can do this. I know you. You _always_ land on your feet. That’s it. Breathe. Slow breaths. You can do it.”**

Light flushed in further embarrassment as Ryuk led him to and helped him sit down at the kitchen table.

 _So pathetic!_

It was almost enough to make him wish he was still Kira because surely Kira was stronger than he was. Surely Kira would have never broken down like this.

Ryuk sat down across from him in the chair that had remained empty for the entire time Light had rented this room. Light managed a sound that caught somewhere between a barking laugh and an exasperated groan—the large monster sitting in the small hotel chair made him look all the more clown-like. 

“I’m sorry,” Light said again even as Ryuk asked him, once again, to stop apologizing. “I mean, I’m sorry I touched you. I just… I just wanted to see if… if you were really there.” 

**“And I told you, it’s okay Light... But I suppose I should tell you that you shouldn’t use _that_ as a baseline as to whether I’m real or not. I can be intangible if I want to be—part of being a Shinigami, you know… wait…. you don’t know. Shit. Sorry.”**

“Intangible?”

**“Yeah… like a ghost. But it doesn’t make me any less real… Can I show you?”**

At a quick nod from Light, Ryuk slowly sunk into the floor. 

Light frowned “How can I be sure that you're really here, then?” he asked as the Shinigami floated up out of the floor until he was sitting in his chair again. The Shinigami ran his claws through the black spikes of his hair until an idea came to him. Light made a small noise of protest when Ryuk scratched one of his talons on the table—drawing a crude picture of an apple right into the tabletop. 

**“You wouldn’t do that, would you?”**

“Of course not!” Light protested hotly. 

**“Then there you go. I’m here.”**

Light glanced from apple graffiti to the monster again, paling slightly. 

“You’re really real.” 

**“Yes, Light. I’m real as you are. Out of curiosity what did you think I am?”**

“A hallucination my brain has provided for me because I was lonely," Light answered immediately.

The look Ryuk gave his human was concerned. 

**“Has that happened before?”**

Light looked away, ashamed. “…Yeah,” he admitted, in scarcely a whisper, the fall of his brown bangs curtaining off his face from scrutiny. 

They just sat there for a while in awkward silence. Ryuk could almost see how Light was literally pulling himself back together or trying to. He seemed calm again, almost eerily so, and while Ryuk was no expert in human trauma—well, unless he was the one causing it—it just seemed unlikely to him that Light would recover from an episode like that so quickly. It was more likely that the young man was just putting up a strong front. 

“R-Ryuk?”

**“Yeah?”**

“If you’re real then… could you help me with something?” 

The Shinigami looked at the young man blankly. It really wasn’t in his nature to be helpful. This… _all this._ It was all just… an aberration. 

Dammit, Light wasn’t supposed to _need_ his help and he really should know better than to rely on a Death God—there really was only one thing he could, was _supposed to_ , help him with. And yet it was Ryuk that talked him off the bridge. What did it say that Light was ready to let go but he wasn't? Ryuk held in a groan—Light, well the _other_ Light, was right—he utterly failed as a Death God. 

**“Depends on what it is, kid.”**

Light held up the chain. 

“You… you said it was just a fashion accessory... And that’s it’s mine now,” Light began haltingly. 

**“Yeah…”** Ryuk began, wondering where he was going with this. 

“Er… Can you help me put it on?”

**_“WHAT?!”_ **

Ryuk gawked as the young man who held his gaze, shoulders set, jaw tightened, and brown eyes, open and honest, shining with determination, and holding none of the guile he’d learned as Kira. Ryuk startled—it was like seeing a ghost. 

“I need… I need to get over this, Ryuk. I just… I need to figure things out and I can’t… can’t let something like this get in the way.” 

**“Are you sure that’s a good idea? I mean I’m no expert on… this sort of thing but if just hearing it jingle…”**

“You’re right. I need to learn associate it with something else. And fast.” 

The Shinigami scratched his pointed chin between blackened talons as he contemplated the problem. **“Think of it… Maybe… yeah! It’s not a chain. It’s a bell! You know, like... well..."** Ryuk cleared his throat and spontaneously broke out into song **" _Jingle bells / Jingle bells / Jingle all the way…_ ”**

“That’s brilliant! Thanks, Ryuk! You’re a lifesaver!” Light declared as he reached across the small hotel table, unthinkingly putting his hand on Ryuk’s shoulder again. 

The Shinigami fidgeted awkwardly in his seat.


	4. Chapter 4

“Ryuk! You’re a lifesaver!” Light declared while patting the Shinigami on the shoulder.

 **“Er… Yeah… Just don’t tell anyone.”** Ryuk grumbled as he reached for the one apple left in the fruit bowl at the center of the table, his every move taken with exaggerated slowness and caution. It wasn’t because he was trying to spare his human further grief. Naturally. Of course not! Ryuk was always careful around humans anyway due to the peculiarities of Shinigami Law—even though the entire purpose of Shinigami was to end human lives he’d be in big trouble if he harmed them—Shinigami were _only_ allowed to kill deliberately, by using their Death Notes. 

Ryuk slowly and carefully picked up the apple between jet black talons and raised it to his maw to take a bite. Light watched in morbid fascination as the flesh of the fruit was ripped apart between the Shinigami’s jagged, shark-like teeth. 

“How much do you know? About well… any of it?”

 **“You took possession of my Death Note while you were still in high school. I believe that made you... _seventeen_ in human years."**

Light tried to swallow against a suddenly dry throat. 

He... _L_ was right about him. 

He was a mass murderer at seventeen. 

**"I was with you up until they put you in that cell.”**

“And then you left?” Light snapped bitterly. 

**“No,"** the creature's large golden eyes softened with some unnamed emotion, **"you sent me away.”**

“Why would I even _do_ that?” the teen whispered, aghast at his past-self’s stupidity. 

**“I imagine you didn’t want L suspecting anything.”**

That Light flinched at the mention of L didn’t go unnoticed by Ryuk. 

The Shinigami awkwardly changed the subject. 

**“Want breakfast?”**

“No,” Light asserted just as his stomach audibly growled. 

Ryuk shot him a _look._ **“You humans need to eat to like… live, right? So you’d better eat something.”** The Shinigami insisted. He'd been rather alarmed by just how thin Light had become under his clothing. Such proportions might be alright on a Shinigami but Light was a human, a yet living human, not a skeleton... 

Light barely refrained from rolling his eyes. _Who knew a God of Death could be such a mother hen!_ Light thought but was nonetheless thankful when Ryuk wordlessly aided him when Light’s hands proved to be too shaky to steadily pour the cereal without making a mess… though this proved to be unnecessary when Light shook the box vigorously but only a few crumbs came out. 

_Oh._

Ryuk’s ever-present smile fell; it was an odd sight—though his blue painted grin remained his actual lips formed an odd, almost neutral grimace. 

Ryuk peered helplessly into the empty box. **“No more food?”**

“That’s right… I never did get around to getting groceries.” 

**“Why not?”** The Shinigami asked, genuinely curious. It was most unlike Light to neglect something like that. 

“I…. I wasn’t planning on coming back here.”

Ryuk froze at the confession. He wasn’t sure why this admittance kind of scared him—it wasn’t like he hadn’t known, _exactly,_ what Light was planning to do given he was up on that bridge... Ryuk truly didn’t know what had come over him but without even really thinking about it the Shinigami had ripped the apple he’d been eating in half with his claws. 

**“Here.”**

Light seemed to instinctively understand that something big had just happened. 

Somehow Ryuk’s offer had jogged a memory—not one of the ones he was clearly missing but of the Kira case. Kira… _he(?!)_ had left a message, _taunting_ the investigators that _“Shinigami Love Apples.”_

And Ryuk clearly had a thing for apples. 

_This_... this probably meant a lot to Ryuk. 

“Er… You don’t want it?” Light attempted to clarify. Sure, he was hungry but... 

**“Want it? Sure. But you actually _need it._ So take it… Go on, kid—before I change my mind.”**

_“Thanks..."_ Light began but his voice caught most awkwardly in his throat. "Thanks, Ryuk,” Light mumbled, as he took the apple half from his hand. Ryuk had large hands, taloned and black, and Light felt an odd thrill again when their fingers touched. Light looked away in a futile attempt to hide his reddening face as he took a bite.

 **“So… uh... you’re gonna get more apples and food and stuff, right?”** Ryuk prompted after Light had eaten his half of the apple—well-aware that that was hardly enough to get a human through the day. And, more selfishly, if he didn’t get his apple fix soon, he’d probably start having withdrawal symptoms. Ryuk didn't relish twisting up like a pretzel again. 

Light flushed further with embarrassment. “I... uh... that is… I’m you know… kinda… _out of money._ ”

Ryuk’s already bulging yellow eyes bugged out even further at the admission. **“You didn’t plan for the future? That’s not like you at all.”** As soon as the words left his mouth, Ryuk felt like slapping himself in the face— _of course_ Light didn’t plan for the future. He didn’t think he _had_ one. 

**“S-sorry.”** Ryuk grunted and Light glared sullenly down at his lap. 

It’s not like he had a lot of money on him to begin with. When L finally tired of, literally, screwing him over he’d oh-so-graciously given him just enough money for a one-way ticket back to Japan and told him to go home. But that was something that Light could not (and _would not_ ) ever do. 

Especially after the way his father reacted to finding out what L was doing to him. Light got the distinct impression that his father would have rather he died before “letting that happen.” 

Of course what happened was _all his fault_ —never mind that L had him chained up and he couldn’t do anything to stop it and never mind how many times he said “no” and “stop” his father’s much-vaunted “honor” still laid the blame fully on him. Of course. He must have done _something_ to lead "Ryuuzaki" on. It was _unthinkable_ to him that his coworker who he trusted would do something like that. That cut the deepest—that for whatever reason his father was more willing to listen to L than him and believed whatever lies Ryuuzaki had been spouting to cover up the deed. It hurt but it really just illuminated what he had known all along—his father was never on his side. That he would choose some abstract and overly idealistic notion of honor and justice over his family every time. He only ever gave lip service to caring about them. 

Perhaps that’s where… _Kira_ got it from.

He could never go back there and in any case given their hostility and indifference over “the incident” he would never accept a place among them even if it was offered. Not that they would—his father had washed his hands of him, he was sure.

Besides he’d just gotten used to England—he’d been residing there for almost a year now—and furthermore, he knew L didn’t expect him to stay here after what happened. No, L thought he’d “go crying home to daddy,” (his exact words) he wouldn’t expect him to remain in a low rent hotel in London. Staying only made sense. Given how L had grown _bored_ of London, Light knew L _wouldn’t_ stay here. Plus, Light had anonymity here—there would be no expectations and no people who knew him to mock how far he’d fallen. 

Or at least that had been the case. 

Then Ryuk had shown up and informed him he’d fallen further than he even knew. 

But even without a literal specter from a past he had somehow forgotten showing up, Light knew his anonymity here wouldn’t last. He had no doubt that L would find him eventually—he wasn’t naïve enough to believe L would ever let him go for good. In fact he had no doubt that L had let him go for some purpose in mind and he would doubt find out eventually. It was just another factor that had led him to be up onto that bridge—he saw no other way out. 

He still didn’t. 

But now there… were complications and all he could do was… keep living—which was something he hadn’t anticipated…

**“Alright, I get that you’re unsure about this whole ‘being alive business’ but… wouldn’t it be nice to have food though until you make up your mind?”**

“I…”

 **“Especially apples. Apples are good. Healthy…”**

Light shot his companion a _look_. “I was right—you _need_ apples or something, don’t you?” 

**“I-I need my fix, okay? I’m afraid I won’t be much help to you without them. Hmmm… I suppose I could steal some apples.”**

“No! I mean, no. You don’t have to do that. I’ll get you your apples, Ryuk.”

**“How? You have no money and no job.”**

“You don’t need to remind me,” Light huffed as he reached for the newspaper. “But I don’t want you stealing. We shouldn’t have to resort to that. I’ll find _something._ I promise.” Light snapped, and Ryuk felt an odd sense of relief upon noticing the determined glint return to his human’s eyes—it seemed he had successfully relit the fire (or an ember at least) of Light’s old stubborn pride. 

Light’s pride was a double-edged sword—he drew strength from it but it was also his biggest flaw—while Light’s arrogance often got him into trouble that same pride also sustained him even when it seemed all hope was lost; even when the odds against him were _insane_ Light never gave up. That was why seeing Light up on that bridge was so… _wrong,_ so frightening to see. Ryuk supposed that in the end all it did was make him seem stronger than he really was. Light’s pride would not allow him to quit… or to be seen as weak. 

Light suppressed a sigh as he skimmed through the classified ads. L had probably made sure he was blacklisted from any law enforcement jobs and even if he wasn’t, taking one would probably draw L’s attention which was the last thing Light wanted. “Maybe I can get a job waiting tables or something,” he said with a grimace because that would mean dealing with other humans—he wasn’t sure if he _could_ do that right now, even to survive. Light allowed his sigh to escape when it occurred to him that no matter what job he managed to acquire any type of work would no doubt mean dealing with assholes all day long—it seemed that was just his luck or perhaps it was because there were so few humans he could actually stand (and after what happened at his last job that number had dwindled to none…) 

But he, or rather his new identity of “Lucas Reynard,” didn’t have many other prospects. This identity was designed to be perfectly average and ordinary, to not stand out—great for hiding from L, not so good for landing a job. 

(Some days were better than others and it’s not like he hadn’t tried before.) 

**“Well, what sort of job do you want?”** Ryuk cut through Light’s brooding.

The brunet sighed again—the Shinigami clearly didn’t understand. It wasn’t about what _he_ wanted. 

(It was _never_ about what he wanted. It was about what _had_ to be done.)

It was about what jobs were available, who was hiring right now, and what would put food on the table… 

Or apples, really. He assured himself that this was more for Ryuk’s sake than his own. He hadn’t committed to something as terrifying as living. Hell, he shouldn’t even be alive. He didn’t even understand himself at the moment and he was going to drive himself mad just thinking about it… that is, if he wasn’t mad already. 

“I don’t know. I just…” Light fisted his hands in his hair in vexation—this whole thing just seemed utterly pointless since he wasn’t going to be alive much longer anyway. “I _really_ don’t want to be me right now.” 

**“Then why not get paid to be someone else?”**

“Huh?” 

**“How about this one?”** Ryuk asked. Light startled when Ryuk eagerly thrust his claw at an ad announcing a casting call for a local theater production. **“You could try that?”**

“I have no acting experience, Ryuk.”

The Shinigami’s laughter was disturbing.


End file.
